


What Will Soak Us

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: M/M, SNL Korea, ZIKYUNG ACTUALLY KISSED ON SCREEN GUYS, it happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zico and Kyung kiss on SNL and my brain fills in what happens afterwards</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Will Soak Us

**Author's Note:**

> [ so this happened tonight.](http://i.imgur.com/U21ai8q.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> yeah. [ here's the video.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DmSKCe_7j6o&feature=youtu.be&ab_channel=tvN)
> 
> i'm still not properly able to form sentences.

_Sometimes it’s sweet_   
_Sometimes it’s soft_   
_An attempt at instinct, a fuse that grows stronger_   
_We are sucked in even stronger_   
_Sexuality, sexuality_

_Taemin - Sexuality_

 

It had been Kyung’s idea, because of course it was – he was always suggesting stupid shit like that, stuff that deliberately blurred the line between real and fanservice, always slyly inserting himself into situations where he could touch Jiho inappropriately (particularly if there were cameras around) – but this was on another level.

“Act like we’ve never done this before,” Kyung whispers as he hands the soju bottle back to Jiho, turning to head back to his start position.

Jiho says nothing, just bites his lip. That’s probably the hardest part of this whole damn sketch, honestly – pretending that this is something new and gross and done just for the fans, that he didn’t make Kyung come four times last night, panting and sweaty and groaning Jiho’s name.

He runs through his lines, playing along as Kyung drinks from the ‘soju’ (Kyung had cheekily insisted that they keep the soju in the bottle instead of replacing it with water, which had earned him a smack) and looks at him, swallowing.

And then Kyung is pulling him in for the kiss, and Jiho slides his hands around to wrap around Kyung’s back – the most natural thing in the world, he’s done it a thousand times before – but has to remind himself not to go any further, to keep a distance between them, like this is slightly disgusting. Kyung’s lips feel so damn soft and familiar, like home, like he _belongs_ like this, and he has to resist the temptation to arch up underneath the shorter man, to trace a line along Kyung’s bottom lip with his tongue – the frustration is building and the most he can do is clench his fingers a bit, gripping Kyung’s shirt.

He never was a very good actor.

After what seems like years but is, in reality, only a few seconds, the director calls “cut!” and they step away like magnets repelling each other, Jiho backing away so fast he hits the mirror, feels the cold touch him through his shirt, chilling him.

Kyung smirks at him and drags his sleeve across his mouth, turning away and complaining loudly. “I kissed Woo Jiho! Yuck.”

Jiho just smiles weakly, his head still spinning.

//

They don’t last very long. The moment the van drops them off at Jiho’s place – Jihoon waving excitedly out the window as it drives off, high on the feeling of completing filming successfully – they spill into the elevator, reaching for each other heatedly. Kyung’s hand slips underneath his shirt, palming at his belly as he kisses Jiho _properly_ , the way they couldn’t in front of all those cameras, biting at Jiho’s lips and gasping loudly into the empty air of the elevator.

“You’re not so bad at acting after all, you know,” Kyung whispers, pulling back slightly to look Jiho in the eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t have the self-control.”

Jiho growls and pushes Kyung against the wall of the elevator, pinning his arms above his head and wedging a thigh in between Kyung’s legs, staring him down. “Asshole.”

Kyung grins at that and Jiho can’t stand the sight of that smug smile stretched across his face so he grabs Kyung by the hair and drags him close, revelling in the feeling of his lips, the way he smells, the way he drags his nails down Jiho’s back – he’s so fucking familiar that Jiho lets himself go.

The elevator doors open and Kyung pulls away, grabbing Jiho by the hand and yanking him down the hallway, biting his lip impatiently as Jiho – in a daze – fumbles with his keys, finally getting the door open, moving slowly like he’s drunk.

It barely shuts behind them before Kyung is upon him again, tugging at Jiho’s shirt so fiercely that he hears the fabric rip, but can’t say anything about it because Kyung is _everywhere_ , his hands touching Jiho’s belly, his nipples, his collarbone, brushing over his cock through his jeans, making him hiss and roll his hips upward, desperate for his touch.

“Couldn’t stand kissing you like that,” Jiho whispers as he pulls Kyung’s t-shirt over his head, ripping off his own eagerly, sliding Kyung’s belt through the loops of his jeans.

Kyung chuckles, his eyes dark. “Making Woo Jiho lose his mind on national television… Very satisfying.”

In response, Jiho slams Kyung up against the wall, biting him hard on the neck, refusing to allow Kyung to get away with that shit – he is _such_ a tease and he knows it. Every fucking take they had had to do – it was five, Jiho counted, couldn’t stop counting – Kyung had _known_ what he was doing to him, he had _enjoyed_ it, oh, fuck –

He doesn’t have the words to express that right now, so he does the next best thing and thumbs open Kyung’s jeans, sliding his hand down to wrap around Kyung’s cock, biting his lip at the expression that crosses Kyung’s face. He steps closer and brushes his lips along Kyung’s collarbone, breathing delicately up his neck, nibbling on his earlobe lightly, his subtlety rewarded with a moan, Kyung’s hand curling in his hair as he strokes harder, faster, enjoying this.

“I would call this revenge…” he begins, closing his eyes as Kyung’s nails dig into his waist, “...but I haven’t even started yet.”

“Motherfucker…” Kyung mutters, panting, rolling his hips as Jiho uses his free hand to slide his jeans down entirely so they puddle at his ankles.

Jiho runs his thumb over the tip of Kyung’s cock, feeling the slick precome there already, smiling as Kyung dips his head forward so he’s resting on Jiho’s shoulder. He can feel, already, that Kyung is close – filming those five takes hadn’t been as easy on him as he claimed; although he should have expected that, really, knowing Kyung is mostly all bravado and farce.

“Jiho…” Kyung gasps, his voice pitching up into a moan, dipping his head back against the wall so Jiho can see the silhouette of his throat, all soft lines and angles.

“Come on,” Jiho growls in response, his hand moving faster, twisting slightly, bringing Kyung ever-closer to the edge of that precipice.

When Kyung comes with a shout Jiho watches him, watches the way his eyes flutter shut, how his mouth opens, the pink of his flesh inviting and open – watches the way his fingers clench and his back arches, watches everything like he’s seeing it for the first time, seeing with new eyes, like he is born anew.

They lean on each other heavily for a few moments, Jiho wiping his hand on his jeans, knowing they’ll come off in a minute anyway. Kyung tilts his head slightly, nuzzling into Jiho’s neck, and he blinks at the unexpected – but not unwelcome – tenderness in such a sexually charged situation, not expecting this, after all the shit they’ve given to each other tonight.

“Is it my turn for revenge now?” Kyung whispers into his skin, the words settling there, hot and heavy.

Jiho smirks into Kyung’s hair and closes his eyes. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Show me,” Kyung breathes, reaching for Jiho’s fly, and Jiho closes his eyes and gives in.

**Author's Note:**

> I need to be up in four hours and I'm slightly delusional but I hope you enjoyed 8D


End file.
